Last July

To see her sweet smile,

is to watch the warmth

of the first summer sun

shining through the window

as it colors the couch,

and the coffee table,

and the books scattered about

in its glowing golden hues.

‍

To hear her soft sigh,

is to slow down and listen

for the singing 

of cicadas in the trees, 

and the creaking 

of branches in the breeze

and, in the wind,

the rustle of the leaves.

‍

To hold her heart whole,

is to feel the pink of your face

painted by the heat,

and the baking sand

beneath your feet,

and the stick of sweat

on your neck 

against clean sheets.

‍

To be by her side, 

is to forget the world 

and stop time 

for just one moment—

and it is fleeting, 

but also freeing, 

and you are breathing

for the first time.